


Boxes

by BurningTea



Category: Leverage
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, Multi, OT3, Presents, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9054334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningTea/pseuds/BurningTea
Summary: Parker doesn't find opening boxes interesting when she's given a present, so Eliot and Hardison make it more fun for her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's Christmas - I am allowed to be fluffy.

Parker’s face creases as she stares at the box. 

“I don’t get it,” she says. “What’s it do?”

“It’s just a box, Parker,” Eliot says. He leans in and taps the bow. “Just open it.”

Parker tilts her head and huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. 

“I’ve already opened three boxes,” she says. “And they just keep having other boxes in them. It’s boring. I don’t want boxes that don’t do anything.”

Eliot sees Hardison’s face, and he knows they’re thinking along similar lines. This isn’t working. 

“Tell you what,” Eliot says, “Why don’t I make breakfast food for dinner and we forget about the boxes?”

Parker drops the box she’s holding, which Eliot knows holds another three, and bounces to her feet. 

“Bacon and maple syrup and waffles,” she announces, as though Eliot would forget. “It’s my birthday!”

It isn’t, but they agreed they’d celebrate the day when she wanted to, and if she wants to celebrate it only a month before Christmas, that’s fine with Eliot. It’s also fine with Eliot when, after eating, she decides to see what maple syrup tastes like when licked directly off his skin. Hardison doesn’t seem to mind that part, either.

***

Eliot finds Hardison at his worktable the next morning, bits of wood and cardboard and wiring scattered about him.

“What you doing?” Eliot asks, jerking his chin at the mess, as though Hardison might not get what he means just from context. “This for a job?”

“Nah, man,” Hardison says, frowning. He looks up at Eliot and he looks…sad. “She didn’t like the boxes.”

Eliot shrugs.

“Didn’t think she would.”

“You said-”

“You wanted some cheesy romantic crap, and I said fine. I coulda been wrong. Not like I’m the world expert on Parker.”

Except, in some ways, he kind of is. Hardison understands parts of Parker that Eliot will never fully grasp, and Eliot gets others that neither he nor Parker will ever need to fully explain. It’s a certain kind of broken, or of strength, or some mix of the two. In any case, Eliot has been wrong before about what Parker will like, even if he isn’t wrong often. 

“You got her that plant,” Hardison says. “You know her.”

He looks dejected.

“Come on,” Eliot says, and reaches out to slap Hardison on the back. “You know her. And she said what the problem was. She was bored. So, you trying to find a way to make boxes more interesting for her?”

Hardison shrugs again, and Eliot changes the slap into rubbing a circle on Hardison’s back, and then into massaging the guy’s shoulders. By the time he’s standing behind Hardison, both hands working on the tension there, he’s started to see some shape to what Hardison has spread out in front of him.

“You going with an electronic lock?” Eliot asks. 

“Yeah. I figured some kind of code would be more interesting.”

“For you,” Eliot says. “This is Parker. You gotta think like a safe.”

“I am thinking like a safe,” Hardison says, but he sets down what he’s working on and leans back into Eliot’s hands. “An electronic safe.”

“Well, maybe for one box,” Eliot says. Hardison’s warm and firm under his hands and Eliot has maybe three more minutes of focusing on this issue before he has to either let go of Hardison or turn him around for a kiss. “But you still want to do the nesting boxes, right?”

“Yeah,” Hardison says, slowly. “If we can.”

“Oh. Yeah. We can make that work,” Eliot says, feeling his lips tug into a smirk. “Trick will be to change it up. Parker ain’t gonna want the same kinda box seven times, man. We gotta think variety.”

“Variety can be good,” Hardison says. Well, he mumbles it, his head dipping forward. 

“Yeah, it can,” Eliot agrees, before leaning in and kissing the back of Hardison’s neck. “I don’t recall getting up to much in here for a while.”

At that, Hardison’s head comes up and he turns, catching one of Eliot’s hands and kissing it. Eliot lets him. The dude can get all romantic at a moment’s notice, and there’s no point in fighting it. Eliot isn’t even sure he wants to. 

Actually, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t.

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Hardison asks, smiling.

His grin only grows wider as Eliot raises an eyebrow and sinks to his knees. They leave the issue of the boxes for a while.

***

Sophie practically glows when Eliot’s done explaining. 

“Oh, that is so sweet!” she says, and the sparkle of the diamonds at her ears and around her throat probably do add to the overall impression of glittering glee, but Sophie has always had a smile that could light up a night. “Nate! Nate, come here and listen to what Eliot wants to do for Parker.”

Behind Sophie, the hotel room she’s sitting in doesn’t show any sign of Nate, but Eliot knows the two of them are together in Paris. In theory, they’re on honeymoon, although it’s been going on for well over a year and given what Nate called Hardison for the day before they’re also running a con. 

Eliot squashes the tiny flare of frustration that he can only see Sophie through a screen. They’ve assured him they’ll keep safe and haven’t protested too much at him sending a list of people they can contact for backup in each country they visit. They don’t need to know Eliot already has someone tailing them. Just in case. 

He’s almost certain they don’t know about all of Hardison’s trackers, either. 

Then again, there was that time two weeks ago where Sophie was sitting waiting when Eliot’s guy arrived on the scene and took out the people trying to threaten her, and by all accounts she looked expectant when he showed himself, so maybe thinking they’re getting anything by Sophie and Nate is a fool’s errand. 

“Nate!” Sophie calls again, twisting around for a moment before looking back at Eliot and shrugging. “Father Paul called. I’m not sure if it’s asking for help or catching up, but Nate’s been talking to him for an hour.”

“Well, let me know if you’re gonna be back in the States,” Eliot says. “We’ll come meet you.”

“We’ll meet up,” Sophie agrees, and leans forward, all thought of Father Paul apparently uninteresting just now. “But tell me exactly what kind of thing you’re after. I’m sure I can get you just the right item.”

“Oh, you just need to give me some ideas,” Eliot says.

Sophie waves her hand and rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be silly, Eliot. This sounds like the perfect Christmas Gift to all of you. Of course I want to take part. Now, come on. What sort of era are you thinking of? Ooh. Let me go through some options. I saw an absolutely gorgeous box just last week. I’d probably only need a few days to get hold of it.” She smirks, rolling her eyes again in a more mischievous way. “Well, a few days and a Rolls.”

Eliot finds himself smiling back, and the only thing that could make him happier about their plans for Parker’s present would be if Nate and Sophie could be there on the day. 

Still, if Sophie does get hold of a box for them, it’ll be as close as they can get just now. He’ll take it. 

***

Two days later, he finds Hardison welding pieces of iron into something that might be a box, if boxes were generally designed by inhuman creatures who’d just smoked a whole load of something good. 

“I was thinking,” he says, when Hardison pauses, switches off the welding torch, and looks up at him. 

“Yeah?” Hardison says. He has the mask up, and it shouldn’t be appealing. It shouldn’t. Just because he’s still holding the torch and has put on what passes for hard-wearing clothing. “You gonna share, or was that, like, a general update that synapses do fire in your head? ‘Cause I know you been taking a few beatings, man, but I’m pretty sure your brain still works. We know this. We got that scan.”

And Eliot isn’t going to get distracted by that conversation, because he does agree that keeping himself healthy and fit is best for them all, but that doesn’t mean he appreciated being talked into a scan. Hardison had a power-point all ready to go to persuade Eliot, and he gave the presentation wearing a scarf. And only a scarf. 

Not the point.

“I was thinking,” he says again, glaring when Hardison smirks, “that we could ask Archie if he has any ideas. You know, kinda like getting her sorta-dad involved.”

“Now, I know you ain’t saying that in this day and age-”

“No! No, of course not,” Eliot says. “Parker belongs to her own damn self. It’s just Sophie’s getting a box, and you’re making at least two, and…”

He trails off, shrugging. 

Hardison’s slow smile releases a bit of tension Eliot hadn’t realized was there.

“I’ll call him,” Hardison says. “He’s out on a cruise right now.”

Eliot feels his eyebrows climb up his head.

“A cruise? Archie? Where he can’t get away from the people he’s stealing from?”

“Hey, man. Come on, now. He’s retired,” Hardison says, then manages to grin even wider. It should break the laws of physics, but he manages it. “Least, the passenger list says that’s where he is. My sources tell me he didn’t get back on the boat after it hit Europe.”

All of the people Eliot wants to help him with the boxes are in Europe, it seems. 

“Wonder what he’s after,” Eliot says, but he’s almost sure that once Hardison gets in touch with Parker’s old mentor, the old thief will be adding some sort of box to the shopping list. “Make sure you keep an eye on sizes. Not gonna be able to nest them if they’re all the same size.”

Hardison nods, his tone turning serious.

“Absolutely. Fitting things together is much easier with a range of sizes.”

Eliot rolls his eyes.

***

The next morning, Hardison waits until Parker goes out to meet her book-club, which to both of their surprise turned out to be a real thing made up of real people, and tells Eliot that Archie is on board. He already has an idea for what to get them.

So, that’s two from Hardison, one from Sophie and one from Archie. Four boxes. They don’t need the same number Hardison tried with before, but four seems wrong. Odd numbers are more satisfying. Parker says so. 

Eliot needs to find a box.

***

He tells Parker he just needs a bit of time to sort out Christmas presents, and she nods. Parker doesn’t pry into things when he asks her not to. 

After that, he takes almost three days searching through the city for something that will work. He wants it to be right.

When he finds the small shop where a craftsman can make a cryptex, he knows he has the right thing. 

It’s small, so small they won’t be able to use what was going to be the last box, but he already has an idea about that. 

Maybe they can make it seven boxes after all.

***

On Christmas Eve, Hardison calls them all into the main room and gets them settled on the couch. The tree is lit up, the lights glowing warmly next to the red ribbons and Parker’s usual collection of priceless gems. She rotates them round, and this year it’s mostly rubies and diamonds. And a bauble shaped like a monkey, because she apparently found that hilarious when they saw it in a market out in Seattle on a case last month. There’s one missing, a ruby set in gold that Parker lifted not long before they all started working together. Eliot knows it will have founds its way to somewhere that will help a group of kids, maybe ones who are in care or who need funding for their school. It’s something Parker doesn’t exactly hide, but she doesn’t talk about it much, either. 

In a few days, Hardison will track it down and Eliot will make sure whoever’s been gifted the windfall is safe from unsavory interest. Parker doesn’t make a thing of that, either, but she always pats them on the arm once they’re done.

Just now, with a small bauble tied to his hair on either side of his head and Parker wearing a dress that seems to be made of a skinned candy-cane, they settle down to deal with the presents. Hardison’s wearing a paper crown, which seems unfair when Eliot knows his hair will gain more ornaments as the day goes on, but then Parker will give him a kiss for every one she removes later. He can deal. 

Parker pulls a face when Hardison and Eliot lift out her present from behind the tree. 

“Boxes again?” she asks. She shuffles a little, glancing to the side, and Eliot can almost see her exercising the tact she thinks Santa would want of her. “That’s…nice. I guess.”

“Give it a try, Parker,” Eliot says. “These are different boxes.”

“Parker boxes,” Hardison adds. “If you don’t like them, we have other gifts.”

Parker wrinkles her nose and tips her head to the side. She watches as they set the present down in front of her on the floor, Hardison looking warm and patient in that way he has. Eliot pushes his hair back and sits on his heels. Until Parker decides whether she wants to try the boxes, he’ll wait. 

He does let himself breathe a sigh of relief when she reaches for the first box. It’s not for him, or not exactly. He doesn’t want Hardison to feel they’ve got it wrong again.

The first box is large, an intricately carved wooden piece with several puzzle locks that Archie got for them. It’s got to be over a hundred years old, or looks it, and it’s polished and worn and exudes masterful workmanship. Hardison’s wrapped it in paper covered in dancing elves. On anything other than a cursory inspection, it can be seen that the elves are dancing with mini T-Rexes.

Parker’s eyes light up when she spots the first puzzle lock, and Hardison beams. Eliot might be smiling himself. Might be. 

Fine. He’s smiling.

It takes her almost six minutes to open that first box, partly because she stops and tells them about each lock. The next box, the one Hardison made, takes her five. She refuses to use any gadget and works the code herself.

Eliot pours them all sparkling pink wine as she examines the third box, the one Sophie sent. When Hardison raises an eyebrow at the drink, Eliot shrugs.

“What? You like sparkling crap. And color.”

Sophie’s box is some kind of carved stone, and the lock is a series of sliding rods. Parker is fascinated, and almost ignores the next box in favor of considering how it could be adapted to something more modern. 

Hardison’s next box looks like someone made it out of weaving cogs together, and it’s a beautiful thing. Parker works out which cogs actually move and in what order, laughing when she gets which mathematical sequence is the key. 

Which just leaves a small wooden cylinder in her hands. Eliot’s box.

It takes Parker less time than any of the others to work out the code. Then again, Eliot chose something he knew she’d remember. 

When she shakes it open, Parker frowns at the slip of paper she finds in her hands.

“What is it?” she asks. “These are co-ordinates, right? To what?”

“To the next box, baby,” Hardison says. “You can go open it any time you like.”

“Ooh. Now!” Parker says, on her feet before even Eliot can make it. 

“Dinner needs starting,” Eliot says, but he’s already planned for this. Even though it’s daytime, he thought Parker would want to go straight away. “How about you do some planning and we’ll go after?”

Parker nods, but Eliot isn’t even surprised when he turns around partway through making the cranberry sauce and finds she’s gone. Hardison shrugs and holds up his tablet.

“Got her on comms,” he says. 

Eliot shakes his head. He already ran a con to make sure security will be made up of people he knows Parker can take, but he pulls his own ear-bud out and listens to his partners talk through Parker breaking into a bank vault as he bastes the turkey.

***

Parker slips back into the apartment just as Eliot’s setting the potatoes down on the table. At least, she’s standing there with a smile in her eyes when he looks up. 

She lets him straighten up and waits for Hardison to wander over from the seating area, a hopeful look on his face. Then, she throws something at Eliot. He snags it out of the air with one hand.

“Found another box inside the vault,” she says. “Open it.”

Eliot looks down. It’s the last box, the only one they’ve kept from the first attempt. This one only has one clasp. He does as she says. The box is empty.

When he looks back at Parker, she’s holding up her left hand, the ring glittering on her finger. 

“You sure, mama?” Hardison asks, because he always makes sure they’re clear with each other, even when Parker or Eliot are in the mood to let actions say everything they feel needs saying. “You want to stay with us both? Forever?”

“You wanna marry us?” Eliot asks, because he can communicate. He can.

Parker’s smile reaches her lips this time.

“Together,” she says. “Right? Now where are your rings hidden?”

Eliot shakes his head and opens his mouth to tell her that’s not how this works, but the look on Hardison’s face stops him.

“What?” Eliot asks. “Man, you’ve hidden a ring for me? Where? I got a stack of boxes, too?”

“Nah,” Hardison says, dropping into a seat and helping himself to potatoes before Eliot’s even said the food is served. “You ain’t the locked boxes type. But how do you feel about fighting your way onto a submarine?”

Parker barks out a laugh and Eliot knows that no matter where Hardison has planted a ring for him, he’ll go and get it. And by then the code they’ve got three different hackers working on might be ready, and Parker and he can give Hardison a chance to earn his own ring. 

“I like Parker boxes,” Parker says as she takes a slice of turkey, still before Eliot has said food is ready. She folds it into a parcel and stuffs pickles into it. “But I want to see Eliot fight us onto a submarine.”

She shoves the turkey and pickle parcel into her mouth, and grins around it, and Eliot resigns himself to doing exactly what they both want. Besides, he’s always kinda liked submarines. It’ll be fun.


End file.
